Connections
by Miss Wonderfreak
Summary: What if Winry and Edward were mysteriously emotionally connected? post 78, contains spoilers, EdWinry obviously


a.n. I'm not particularly happy with the way this one turned out, but my muse was telling me to write an edwin oneshot, but then I read chap 78. can you believe I didn't know it was out?! I feel so stupid! Here I was, all like 'omg I want it' and it was already out. So anyway, I read it and I wanted to do something going with the timeline, so I decided on a post-78 oneshot. Well it isn't exactly a oneshot, but anyway… I'm really big on the whole soul mate connection thing, so this is kind of a what-if scenario. R and R and I'll love you forever.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA, you overstuffed corporate goons.

Connections

Winry sighed, staring blankly at the little ramshackle hut's wall. She had a rare moment of peace, and was using it to think. With all the cooking and cleaning and taking care of the children that infested the place, she hardly ever got to do that. Just sit and think. Two children chased each other around the small village, and she smiled. They reminded her of Edward and Alphonse, when they were younger. Edward. She hoped he was alright. She didn't know how to explain it, but right before Alphonse collapsed without warning, she had felt strange too. A sharp pain had shot briefly through her midsection, and she felt odd, like many little hands were tugging away at a part of her very soul, trying to steal it. Then Al had fallen. She bit her lip. This had happened before, that feeling. The night an armored Al had burst into her house, clutching a bleeding Edward. Shortly before, a tingling sensation had spread through her arm and leg, like they had fallen asleep. Then, deep inside her, tiny dark hands jerked on her limbs, and abruptly the feeling stopped. She had dismissed it easily enough, thought that perhaps she was coming down with the flu. She hadn't thought to connect it to Ed. But now… she glanced at her stomach. It remained smooth and pale, totally whole. Nothing to explain the sudden shooting pain she had felt, or the occasional difficultly breathing she now had. Not a scratch on her. Maybe the pain had just been cramps. But her period had stopped last week. Maybe something she had eaten hadn't agreed with her? But she hadn't eaten anything for several hours before that. She looked up at the patches of blue sky she could see through the holes in the hut's roof, and prayed to anyone that was listening that Edward was alright.

Edward blinked, and the world swam slowly into focus. As did the faces of the chimeras and a person in a dirty lab coat.

"Well, he's conscious…" The man in the lab coat remarked, pulling back Edward's eyelids, and shining a bright light into each pupil, as Ed struggled weakly.

"Easy, kid. He's a doctor." The lion chimera intoned, placing a powerful hand on Ed's forearm.

"You passed out on us, so we lugged you to the nearest village." The gorilla chimera explained.

"Have to… go… stop… Kim… bley…" Edward choked, struggling to remain conscious.

"You certainly aren't going anywhere in this condition." The doctor said severely. "Two cracked ribs, slight internal bleeding, and possible small puncture in the left lung. You are in no condition to go running about."

"Kim… bley!" Edward gasped, glaring daggers at him.

"Kid, you aren't going to help anybody if you die before you can tell people about Kimbley. And right now, if you leave this bed, that is probably what will happen." The lion frowned as Ed struggled to sit up. He gently pushed him back down, and rolled his eyes.

"Doc, you got any sedatives?" He muttered, turning away from Edward.

"No! No sedative. I'll… stay… still…" Ed began coughing, and was shocked to discover blood on his hands.

"Like I said, internal bleeding. You should be healed in about a week _if_ you stay still." The doctor pushed the smudged glasses up his nose, and bustled over to the next sickbed, which held an frail old lady. Edward sighed, and morosely stared at the tiled ceiling. The florescent light flickered. He hoped everyone was alright. He had hated to leave Winry like that, in Scar's hands, but he hadn't had any other choice. Winry… he hoped she was okay. He sat up suddenly, and fumbled for his coat, on the bedside table. He reached in the pocket, and counted the tiny silver earrings. Good. All there. She would have killed him if he lost any… He hoped wherever she was, she was well-fed. It got so goddamned cold here. Was she keeping warm? Did she have enough to eat? He certainly hoped so. It was odd, but he'd always felt… in tune with her. Whenever she was in pain, he hurt inside. And that time she broke her arm, when he still had all his limbs, it had hurt him too. The instant he heard the snap of the bone breaking, pain had shot up his arm. And sometimes, very late at night, he felt inexplicably sad, and got the feeling that Winry was crying, somewhere. At those times, he wanted to cry too. He had already caused her so much pain. It wasn't fair for her to cry because she missed them. It wasn't fair of Wrath to bring her into this. And most of all it hadn't been fair for them to drag her out to this godforsaken wasteland. But she forgave them. It never ceased to amaze him, her ability to forgive. She forgave Scar, enough to treat him, and she forgave them, even though they didn't deserve it. He just hoped that where ever she was, she was safe. And a very tiny, selfish part of Edward wished she was thinking of him too.


End file.
